


Stress Relief

by emmawicked



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Body Worship, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, M/M, No Asylum AU, Stress Relief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 22:22:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11472861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmawicked/pseuds/emmawicked
Summary: “Just relax,” Miles purred from between his thighs, “You deserve this.”





	Stress Relief

**Author's Note:**

> tell me if you spot any errors! also i may continue this, who knows

“Miles,” Waylon said, barging into his bedroom, “What did you do with my laptop?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Miles said innocently. He was sprawled out on his bed, shirtless, eating mint-pistachio ice cream straight from the container. 

The sight distracted Waylon for a second and he wrinkled his nose at his less than hygienic roommate. “Dude, gross. I eat that too, you know.” Miles shrugged.

“You’ve sucked my dick, I didn’t really think that eating after me was going to turn you off,” he said. 

“You’re disgusting, you know that?” 

Miles grinned wolfishly and rolled up to a sitting position, putting the ice cream aside on his nightstand. “Oh don’t pretend, you love me anyway.” 

“Well if you really loved me, you would tell me where you put my laptop,” Waylon snapped. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” Miles taunted, “I’m not telling until morning.” 

Waylon scowled at him. “Miles, I really need it; I have a deadline in three days and you know how much a bitch Blaire can be, I might actually get fired over t-” Waylon didn’t even know Miles stood up until he pushed him down onto the bed. The old mattress, worn from years of use, creaked under his weight. 

“Shut up Waylon,” Miles ordered, “You need to fucking relax.” Waylon’s mouth snapped open to ask him just what- _exactly_ \- the fuck he meant when Miles crawled in the space between his legs and- _Oh._ He got a pretty good idea of what Miles meant when he started to unzip his pants. 

“Miles, I have work to do, I can’t-” Waylon broke off with a moan when Miles squeezed his half-hard cock. “Really, I can’t do this tonight.”

Miles sat back and groaned in frustration. “For the love of all the is holy, stop thinking about your goddamn job! You’re ruining the mood.” 

“Oh yeah,” Waylon said sarcastically, “I’m ruining the mood because _I’m_ the one who hid their boyfriend’s laptop and is going to get Blaire to fire them.”

“Waylon, I swear to god, if you mention Blaire in our bed again I’m going to break up with you.” Miles sighed at his roommate when he still looked disgruntled, “Blaire is running you ragged, you deserve a break.” 

“Later,” Waylon promised as Miles started kissing and biting a trail down his neck, “But first I have to- I have to…” It was becoming increasingly hard to think the lower Miles got. He started to undo the buttons of his shirt agonizingly slowly. He would unbutton one, place a soft kiss on his chest, and continue onto the next one. It was so overwhelmingly sweet and arousing that Waylon forgot why he was protesting in the first place. Miles slipped his pants off and Waylon kicked them to the floor. The room was cool against his heated skin, but not unpleasantly so. 

Miles kissed his way down the thin trail of hair on Waylon’s stomach. Waylon’s breath caught in his chest as Miles got closer to his cock, but he avoided it- choosing to kiss down one of his legs instead. 

“Just relax,” Miles purred from between his thighs, “You deserve this.” With that, he closed his mouth around Waylon’s cock.

“Oh fuck-!” Waylon inhaled sharply at the sudden wet heat enclosing around him. The suction, combined with the fact that Waylon had been too busy with work for the past week to pay any physical attention to his boyfriend, was enough to know if Miles kept this up, he wouldn’t last long. He prediction almost came true a few moments later when Miles slipped a hand between his thighs and traced around his hole. He barely got a knuckle in when Waylon felt a familiar heat building below his stomach. “Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh-!”

“Mmm,” Miles hummed around his cock before slipping it out of his mouth with a slick ‘pop’, “Not quite.”

“Oh, shut up,” Waylon snapped- or tried to, at least. His voice was too breathy to sound threatening. 

Miles just laughed and crawled up to kiss him again. “You’re a piece of art, ya know that?”

Waylon laughed, “Don’t you mean ‘piece of work’?”

“Nope,” Miles said, popping the ‘p’, “You’re a masterpiece.” 

He started planting kisses on his other thigh, nipping at the sensitive skin there and leaving pink marks in his wake. The soft touches, so uncharacteristic of Miles, made him more aroused than he was willing to admit.

“Miles…” Waylon sighed. Miles hummed against his wrist, slowly planting a kiss on every inch of skin he could reach. His wrist. Forearm. Inside of his elbow. Bicep. The top of his shoulder. His collar bone. Miles repeated the pattern on his other arm. _It’s strange_ , Waylon thought. He felt like an iceberg- with every kiss a touch of his anxiety and stress melted away, leaving him feeling like he was floating. In another state of mind, he would have thought the fantasy was weird, but he was too blissed out to care.

“You okay?” Miles asked, a touch of amusement coating his voice.

Waylon made a sound of assent, too relaxed to form words. He didn’t say anything when Miles got up from his spot between his legs to grab a bottle of lube from their bedside drawers. Waylon watched Miles from half-lidded eyes as he got settled back on the bed. Abruptly, cold, lube-covered fingers touched him and he made a slight noise in the back of his throat.

“You would let me do anything to you right now, wouldn’t you?” Miles asked idly as he opened Waylon up. “I could take you to pieces and you wouldn’t care. You’re so beautiful like this, so pretty laid out on my bed.” Miles continued to drone on with soothing, pretty words. Miles’s voice faded to the back of his mind, focusing only on the slick burn of the fingers that stretched him. Miles often complained about how hard it was to finger someone with only four fingers on each hand, but Waylon didn’t mind. All he cared about was the fullness inside of him, and the fingers brushing up against his prostate.

“Fuck, Miles,” Waylon breathed.

“Yes?” Miles’s hand halted in its ministrations.

“Fuck me, please,” He begged. Miles grinned, sliding his fingers out of Waylon’s stretched ass.

“Well, if you insist.” Waylon’s mind blanked with sheer pleasure as Miles- _finally,_ ** _finally_** _-_ slid inside him. Miles let out a soft grain in Waylon’s ear.

“More, more, more, more,” Waylon chanted with the slow, rhythmic thrusts deep inside of him. Miles felt amazing, filling him and brushing up against his prostate just enough to keep him on edge.

“Patience is a virtue,” Miles chastised, not showing any inclination to speed up his agonizingly slow thrusts.

Waylon groaned. “You’re an asshole,” he said.

Miles grinned back down on Waylon. “Shhhhh, just lay back and enjoy it.” Miles’s hands wandered with uncharacteristic gentleness along Waylon’s frame, teasing his nipples and exploring his body. It could have been hours that Miles kept him on the edge of bliss, time didn’t exist right then. All Waylon could feel was the swollen length of his cock brushing up against his stomach, and the soft moans that Miles uttered. After days/hours/minutes, Miles sped up, thrusting hard into Waylon. Miles reached for Waylon’s cock, jerking him off hard and fast.

“Oh god, oh fuck-” Waylon’s fists gripped the stained, white bed sheets, “Miles!” He came, shooting white arcs across their stomachs. Miles gripped Waylon’s hips as he fucked Waylon’s ass, too caught up in chasing his own orgasm to worry about being gentle anymore. He came a moment later, his hips stilling against Waylon’s. 

“You good?” Miles asked, slipping out of him. Waylon made a soft noise- close to being a whimper- at the loss.

“Mmmm hmmm,” Waylon said, “What brought that on?” 

“You needed it,” Miles said before chuckling as Waylon’s eyelids shut of their own accord, “Wow, I’ll do this more often now that I know it’ll get you to fuckin sleep.” 

“Shut up, Miles,” Waylon said, “Now come here.”

“But you already did, and it’s all gross!” Miles whined. He clambered over to his boyfriend and held him in his arms anyway. 

“‘Love you,” Waylon said, shifting so he could use Miles as a pillow.

“Does this mean you forgive me for stealing your laptop?”

“Nope, I’ll make you pay for it when I’m not about to pass out.” Miles smiled to himself as Waylon hugged him close.

“I love you too, Waylon,” Miles said, but he was already asleep. 

 


End file.
